Over The Edge
by GlassBomb
Summary: Ah, plotless SnapeTonks angst with character death. Assumes an established romance between the two, and a fair few other things too. Review s'il vous plait! Yeah. Fiveshot then...
1. Alone

**Note: Mmm. There really isn't any point to this except from to amuse myself. Hope you like it anyway though. Review and I'll carry on. Oh god, how cliche. Er... review if you like. I'd like you to though, if it means anything to you. **

**I just love SnapeTonks stuff. I didn't, but I've fallen in love with the stuff on here, so thank you guys. **

Spinning upon his heel and stretching out his wand, Voldemort sneered as his lips uttered the damning words.

"_Avada Kedrava_!"

Hitting the masquerade of Lucius Malfoy directly in the chest, the Dark Lord watched in satisfaction at the flash of green, the rush of noise and the revelation that he had already known as the corpse was shown to be that of Nymphadora Tonks.

Snape's eyes widened, naked devastation erupting within him as her body smashed into the harsh, bare earth.

"Lying whore," Voldemort remarked coldly, before turning his own body back to the rest of the Death Eaters.

_No, _he thought softly, denying what he had clearly witnessed and he could still clearly see. _Oh god no…_

He began to shake under the weight of his suppressed emotions, his teeth gritted as he fought to keep the mass onslaught of grief, pain and fear under a secure shield of Occlumency. He could not show what this was doing to him, however much he wanted to break down and plead with her to return.

_Please_, he begged within the confines of his shadowed mind. _Please don't leave me alone…_

His wide eyes watered desperately, his world crashing down around his ears as Voldemort's words were lost in a haze of blind anger and panic.

_I need you, Nymphadora._

The realisation that he could not stand another night on his own frightened him no end, much more than the man who stood before him, gloating about his kill…

_Gloating, _Severus thought, his brain oddly detached. _He murdered her, and he's gloating. He doesn't care. He never cares._

He could not prise his stunned gaze from her body. The fact that she was still there in some form, although she was unmistakeably deceased, was the only thing that was keeping him clinging to an atom of sanity.

_What if they take her away?_

The thought crossed his mind before he could banish it, and he bit down hard upon his teeth to keep himself from sobbing aloud.

_Let them try, the bastards. Oh god, Tonks…_

Every nanosecond, the battle to keep calm and in control was being steadily lost, and he knew that he would soon explode into a tirade of feelings and personal demons.

He had known the risks. He had begged her not to come, pleaded with her so intensely, even admitted his fear that she would be hurt or maimed or killed. But she hadn't listened. She had insisted on accompanying him when his mark burned so deeply.

"_For better or worse_", she'd said. Why couldn't she have just adhered? This was bringing his worse nightmare to life, and even Severus Snape was not strong enough to face that alone. He needed her, in so many ways. He could not cope with the gaping loneliness had retaken its familiar place in his soul once again. She was all he had, all he had ever had.

_I love you, Nymphadora…_

He lost all will to maintain his emotions at that comment, and he allowed tears to stream freely down his face, quick as a flash drawing his wand and pointing it straight into Voldemort's back as he screamed out the only word that would bring her killer even close to feeling the pain that her husband felt at her demise.

"_Crucio!_"


	2. Bright Side Of Death

**I wasn't going to do this, but I thought I needed to. So... yeah. Enjoy.**

**Very much emotional, this - there's your warning.**

Bright Side Of Death

The first words that spilled from the lips of the deceased Nymphadora Tonks weren't carefully planned, well-executed or eloquent. But the shock of being surrounded by perpetual darkness as she was left her somewhat closed off to clarity of mind.

"I think I'm dead."

Fortunately, there were other sources around to bring the necessary information to her, and as one spoke from the darkness, she found herself grinning as the onyx atmosphere faded to reveal a pale blue sky with perfect clouds.

"I think you're right."

From the receding shadows stepped the cheerful frame of Sirius Black, who promptly wrapped her in an embrace, grinning.

"I never expected you to be the next one!" he exclaimed cheerily, his smile fading slightly as he pulled away and saw her shock.

"What's wrong? I know it's a culture shock, but - "

"Where is he?" She asked of thin air, searching over his shoulder.

Sirius's face lit up with bewilderment.

"Where's who?"

Raising her eyebrows furtively, she cast him a glance.

"Severus. Is he somewhere around here?"

"Not that I know of - and I'd know," he responded lightly. "Why does that matter?"

Tonks's face collapsed with shock.

"Why is he still alive and I'm not?!"

Sirius's expression was now one of immense confusion.

"I really don't see why it matters, Nymphadora. All I know is that you're dead and Snape isn't. Now, I have to know - how have you been?"

Tonks shot him an incredulous look.

"Same old, you know… save the wizarding world, patrol the Hogwarts corridors, marry Severus, be back in time for dinner…"

"Do _what_ with Severus?!" Sirius demanded incredulously, anger and shock flitting across his expression. "Please tell me I misheard that, Tonks…"

"Sorry, but you didn't. Now, I died from Voldemort's _Avada Kedrava_… but why did he only kill me? Surely if he found out that Snape was working to betray him, he'd have killed him too…?"

"Uh, Tonks?"

"But it's a matter of time, isn't it? Has he worked it out yet? How is Severus coping? Badly, I bet…"

"Tonks!"

She span around, unaware of the fact that she had ended up four feet or so away from her cousin.

"Sorry."

Sirius seemed less angry now, but still appeared to be rather shocked.

"You married Snape? Seriously?"

The charred innocence of his question made her chuckle aloud.

"I missed you, Sirius. You don't know how much."

Sirius smiled.

"I missed you too, Nymphie, and I understand that you're unhappy with being dead -"

"Not necessarily unhappy," she answered, her brow creasing. "Just worried…"

"Understandable," the former convict muttered, taking a seat on the grass that Tonks hadn't even noticed she was standing upon. He took a deep breath, seemingly nervous.

"Now, it's my responsibility to ask you this, and consider yourself lucky, because most people don't get to see Death before they make their choice."

Her pretty face shaped itself into a deep frown of wonder.

"What are you talking about?"

Sirius sighed, pulling her down to ground level with an arm, and allowing her to sprawl onto the grass before explaining.

"As I'm sure you know, dead souls can choose to leave an imprint upon the earth at their time of death, thus opting to spend forever as a ghost. However, as Life deemed you worthy for success, so did Death - you have been allowed to see the person you miss most from your life and experience a taste of the afterlife before being given the choice. Now it's your decision whether or not you want to stay here or become a ghost - but whichever you choose, it's permanent, and you won't be able to alter your choice."

Tonks's mind swam in the magnitude of this option, her hair spontaneously straightening itself to become a short, electric blue bob cut as it sometimes did when she was nervous. What the hell was she meant to do?

"I'm sorry to just launch this on you," he said apologetically, smiling slightly. "But if it makes your decision any simpler, there is something I can do."

Pulling his wand from his pocket and raising it, he plucked a small mirror from out of thin air.

"Two-way mirror," he explained, handing it to her. "This will give you a temporary direct link to Snape. Just tap the mirror with your wand, and it'll show you what he's doing now."

Tonks beamed and wrapped him in a hug.

"Thanks," she said gratefully, drawing her wand from her jacket and gently tapping it on the mirror's surface. The enchantment began to take immediate effect, and the metamorphmagus watched in anticipation as the internal smoke cleared and she saw her husband.

Tonks's heart clenched as she watched him; although the mirror didn't appear to have sound, he was clearly yelling, and with lip-reading assisting her, she was able to distinguish what he was saying and doing.

"_You bring her back!" _He seemed to be screaming, stunned as she saw how he was holding a wand to Voldemort's temple, his face twisted in pain that it hurt her to watch.

She witnessed the entire sequence played out, sinking steadily further into dismay.

_"You bring her back now!"_

_"Why would I want to do that, Severus?" _

Clearly just recovering from her husband's attack, Voldemort stood and threw Snape backwards, drawing a gasp of horror from her as his spine connected with the closest headstone. Stunned, she felt her shock increase as she saw how broken the Death Eater was: tears were streaming down his face as she watched, and she had never seen him so needy or pleading or pained. He looked as though staying alive was a conscious effort for him.

_"You don't understand," _he mumbled quietly to his opponent, squeezing her hand as he shuffled towards her, a tingle shooting through her soul's limb as though via some form of psychic connection. He turned his attention to her, his expression distraught as he whispered to her.

_"Come back to me, Nymphadora. Please come back to me. I can't face him on my own. Don't make me. Oh god, don't make me. I need you…"_

Gasping, Tonks dropped the mirror, almost cracking it as she felt several tears slide down her cheeks. Sirius hugged her closely, murmuring words of comfort to her.

"I can't just leave him like that…" she mumbled, hiccoughing slightly. "He'll hurt himself. He'll get himself killed to be with me."

Sirius's lips quirked upwards slightly.

"He's strong, Tonks. He'll be alright, you know."

The Auror shook her head vehemently, her expression decisive.

"He's not strong, Sirius. He puts on a façade of strength, and magically, he's powerful - but emotionally, he's just a child. I'm all he's got, all he's ever had, and he told me once that losing me would destroy him. I can't do that to him…"

She stood abruptly, determined.

"Take me back to him, Sirius."

His face adopted an expression of sincerity as he stood beside her.

"It'll mean never seeing me again, or anyone else who dies. Very few people choose to become ghosts. It means no magic, no food… nothing you've ever loved."

She smiled, taking his hand gently.

"It'll mean him," she replied, "and I love him."

"Do you? Really?"

"Yes. And he loves me too."

Sirius grinned, his face looking slightly idiotic because of it.

"Then I'm very much happy for you," he told her cheerfully. "Now, to business - ghosts..."


	3. Love

Love

Severus Snape couldn't have predicted how devastating his wife's death would be to him before she'd died, and to his own horror, he found himself coming to the conclusion that he could not survive her absence much longer. Between the curses that Voldemort kept tossing carelessly towards him and the intense need for her that was destroying his heart and soul an atom at a time, he knew that he would soon succumb to the pain.

He missed her so much already. How he could live without her for a day? A week? A month? Years…?

The very idea seemed to annihilate his emotions further, which was very difficult to accomplish; he was screaming inside, his functions collapsing steadily. He could no longer form rational thought due to the extreme pain, and he could not imagine anything past the next few seconds. He didn't want to think of life without her. How could he live when he couldn't see her, couldn't hold her, couldn't tell her how much he loved her?

God, he was so scared - scared and alone. Scared of being alone. Scared of losing his everything.

He wasn't strong enough for this. He couldn't breathe properly due to tears.

His head was breaking down, leaving him unable to concentrate on the most basic counterjinxes, and his Occlumency was redundant; he lacked the necessary frame of mind to hide his feelings.

He was wide open, torn within, split in two in so many senses. He needed her, damn it. He needed her. Fate couldn't do this to him. He had suffered enough, hadn't he? Surely the years of bullying, domestic abuse and tragedy had been sufficient?

He had had nothing until he met her. And she cleansed him, kept him safe, and he had grown to need her with him to stop the nightmares and end the solitude.

He relied on her so badly, and he wouldn't ever see her again. He couldn't stand it.

"I love you," he whispered aloud, not having the energy to move aside from Voldemort's attack. He had to fight back, he had to avenge her… but all his strength had vanished. She was his strength, and without her, he was useless.

As his nose collided with the ground, he made a resolve to stay there, and simply give in, trembling like a frightened child.

"I love you so much, Nymphadora."

And he did. He let out a sob, unable to control his throat's desire any longer.

"I miss you."

Spinning his body around, he clutched her nearby hand, resolving to make one last ditch attempt to contact the woman he loved so desperately.

Raising his wand to her chest, he curled into her side and kissed her cheek, even as he heard the Dark Lord's distant laugh.

"_Legilimens_," he mumbled, determining himself not to leave her head until he gotten a response. Any response at all out of the desolate bleakness he could feel crushing into his mind from hers. He would wake her up, even if it killed him.

_Answer me, _he pleaded desperately, even his mental voice sounding so broken. _Answer me, Nymphadora. Please say something. Please don't go._

Shaking, he discovered that he could not manipulate his thoughts for a second more, no longer registering the surrounding yells of any Death Eater or of Voldemort himself. Only she mattered.

_What am I meant to do now? Am I just supposed to stay here and live on my own again? Because I can't do that, Nymphadora. I can't do it. You couldn't appreciate how hard this is for me. I'm terrified, do you understand me? I've never been so scared in all my life. I don't know how to deal with this. I don't know how you expect me to cope with it. I'd grown used to it, you see. Used to seeing you there in the morning after we'd made love. You'd conjure me up a coffee, and it was always perfect, and I told you every day that only you had ever conjured me flawless coffee. Used to being able to curl up beside you at night, to clutching you to me like you were the only thing that kept me alive, to whispering how much I loved you while you slept. Used to taking you out to eat, to loving everything you do. And it's all been stripped away, and I can't stand it, okay? I can't stand it!_

He was yelling within his mind now, fierce terror clutching to his flesh as he became urgent.

_Come back to me, my love. Come back to me. I need you so desperately. I'm not strong enough to do this alone. I can't live without you. I love you too much. I want us to stay together. That's all I've ever wanted and it's been taken from me, and I'm dying. I'm dying and all I can do is wait for it, because I can't defeat him. I can't even hurt him. He's smashed my world apart, and I can't fight him._

"Soon, we shall end this," Voldemort remarked nonchalantly, snapping Snape back to the horror of his reality. No, this would end now. He would either resurrect her or he would die. Standing, his heart screaming out to return to his wife's comfort, he thrust out his wand, the hand in which it was held shaking violently.

"It ends now, Voldemort. You either bring her back or I'll kill you."

He willed his arm to maintain composure, his eyes sincere, his tears drying themselves slowly.

"I take the latter, Severus," the Dark Lord said humourlessly, sounding rather bored as he raised his own wand. "I have grown rather tired of your worthless emotions."

The last feeling Snape felt between the two words and the flash of green that ultimately spelt his death was anger - anger that this had had to happen before he could avenge her.


	4. The Severus Snape Affair

**I was going to make this a fourshot tale, but I think that the extra chapter's necessary. Better format and all.**

**It's hardly The Thomas Crown Affair, but I lacked a good chapter title, so there you have it.**

**:D Enjoy...**

The Severus Snape Affair

"Nymph, are you ready to go?" Sirius asked softly, his hand resting upon her shoulder, to which she nodded, gently brushing away her own tears as she realised that she would soon be with her husband again.

"I'll miss you," he muttered, smiling at his cousin as he wrapped her in a friendly embrace, willing himself not to become too emotional until after her departure.

"Oh, I'll miss you too, Sirius," Tonks replied, her tone melancholy, and she gave him a final squeeze before relenting the hug and standing alone, a metre from him.

"Apparently, this is painless," he said reassuringly, grinning as a pale yellow light engulfed her body, oddly enabling her to see perfectly clear despite the glare of optics that encased her.

The metamorphmagus chuckled, returning the grin.

"It is. Pleasantly warm too…"

Reverting to a sincere and apologetic smile, she raised her hand in unison with his in a mutual farewell, and began to materialise from the realm of the dead just as Severus Snape seemed to apparate in.

Tonks barely had time to widen her eyes in shock before she had vanished in a haze of celestial brilliance.

Spinning on his heel at her final expression, he came face to face with none other than Snape, who seemed unable to prise his eyes from the spot where his wife had been standing mere seconds ago.

"Where…?" He managed to ask quietly.

Chewing through a brief slice of shock at how distressed his childhood nemesis looked, Sirius found himself incapable of feeding Snape such a burden. Merlin, he looked so desperate…

"Where did she go, Sirius?"

Blinking at the sound of his actual forename coming from the Potions Master rather than a derogatory yell of his surname, he raised merciful eyes to him and attempted to shield the Professor from what he was about to hear.

"She…"

"She what?"

Merlin, what the hell was he meant to do? This would destroy every last molecule of the sanity that he could see full well that Snape was barely clinging to.

"She… left to become a ghost. She didn't want you to be alone."

Snape's expression melted into distress, fear streaking through his eyes until he momentarily regained a tiny sense of control over his torrential emotions.

"Then bring her back here."

Squeezing his eyes shut, Sirius knew he wouldn't be able to survey his old enemy's reaction without wishing to cry.

"I can't."

Unbeknown to the former convict, the former Death Eater found himself shaking in anger and frustration. It wasn't meant to be like this - she was meant to be here, waiting for him, spending forever with him…

"No," he snarled, striding towards Sirius furiously. "That bastard wouldn't do it, so it's your turn. You and your damn friends condemned me to solitude in life, Black, and you're not fucking doing it in death too!"

Whipping out his wand, which he could barely keep steady from his trembling arms, his expression twisted into one of agony as he held it against Sirius's throat.

"Bring her back to me."

"It's not possible, Severus!" Sirius cried out desperately, allowing his furious mind to work through thousands and thousands of potential possibilities that couldn't possibly work that might bring his cousin back from spirithood. "It isn't because I don't want to!"

"Don't do this to me."

Sirius's eyes met in a firm line with his acquaintance's, whom he had never seen look so distraught. Shock ignited within him as a tear slid down the cheek of the Potions Professor.

"Don't fucking do this to me, Black! I can't do it anymore!" Snape screamed out, the fright fully returning to his retinas as Sirius felt the wand against his throat shake violently.

The werewolf's friend, however, had only one question as his mind halted directly at an idea that although was a long shot, had a vague plausibility of accomplishing what he needed to.

"Did you love her?"

_Oh Merlin, Black. You could never understand how much._

"More than you'll ever know."

Snape's eyes all at once told Sirius stories of terror, sorrow and crushing loneliness, and he was left with no doubt whatsoever that Snape was being truthful.

"I can't face forever alone," he admitted, relinquishing the knowledge of his greatest fear. "Don't make me have to."

"There may be a way," Sirius said gently, uncertainly, "but it's a long shot. There is every likelihood that it will fail, but you must believe that it will succeed."

"Just let me try, Black," Snape responded, a touch of hysteria colouring his voice as he abruptly shifted his wand from his former foe's throat, causing the animagi's eyes to soften.

"Power here is driven by people, Severus; More accurately, death is kept alive by the emotions of the dead people - wizard, witch, muggle or other. The fabric of this dimension is kept secure by their ionic energy, and it alters with them; for example, right now, we're standing in bleakness. Look around, heighten your senses - _feel_."

For the first time since seeing his wife disappear, Snape did endeavour to look somewhere that was neither where she had vanished nor at Sirius, and he noticed exactly what Black had said - it was almost pitch jet, with a solid concrete ground and various storm clouds littering the sky above their heads. It was musty, dark, suffocating, and terribly reflective of solitude. Snape unconsciously shivered.

"This section of reality is reflecting your mindset - your innermost turmoil is shown in a meteorological sense. It's the ultimate in pathetic fallacy, Severus - your mood is mirrored by your surrounding environment. It's reflecting your emotions because yours are the strongest within our parameters. Your ionic energy is manipulated by that of other people and self-reflection is obtained."

"Is there a point to this?"

Sirius would have stormed at him to be quiet under normal circumstances, but seeing the desperation that was fighting so damn hard to obtain control over the ex-Death Eater, he managed to sustain his calm frame of mind.

"Of course, Severus. You must appreciate what's happening before you can effectively reproduce it."

Stepping away from the confrontational scene, the older man kept walking until he occupied a position ten metres away.

"The idea, Severus, is for you to simply feel,", he instructed. "You have to want her here with all your soul."

Sirius smiled, a bitter aftertaste to the gesture.

"You have to let go of all the sorrow, the grief, the pain. Allow it to consume you and reduce you to nothing - then want her."

Swallowing in fear, Snape nodded, horrified.

"The process of becoming a ghost is irreversible, Severus. I have to warn you now that the odds of this being effective are -"

"Shut up, Black. I won't fail, do you understand me?"

The Potions Master was shaking slightly again, his vocal tone fragile and dangerous yet urgent.

_I hope you don't, Snape - for your own sake, _the animagi thought, inclining his head to inform his former enemy to commence when ready.


End file.
